


Languish

by Hannigrammatic



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Gore, Very Very Mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5859556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannigrammatic/pseuds/Hannigrammatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I would be jealous of the sky were it capable of seeing you,” Hannibal murmurs softly.</p>
<p>“And the flowers and the water, I imagine,” Will teases.</p>
<p>
  <i>Just a drabble for an awesome fic challenge! More info included in notes~</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Languish

**Author's Note:**

> For [Curveofherthroat's](http://curveofherthroat.tumblr.com/) Hannigram color palette fic challenge!
> 
> My palette is white, purple, and green (made a little illustration for my palette) ♥
> 
> THIS WAS SUPER FUN 10/10 WOULD DO AGAIN!

The villa is secluded enough to keep prying eyes away. In the past, Will would have never left his house naked, but now he doesn’t even think twice while stepping out into the sunlight into the spacious back yard, clothes shed and discarded in the kitchen, little bundles left where they had fallen untidily. Hannibal will find them when he comes out of the study, frown curling his lips, and Will is already smirking at the thought.

He sprawls out on one of the patio lounge chairs, the pristine white cushion buoying him comfortably and the large parasol shielding him from the brunt of the sunshine basking down from the cloudless blue sky. The infinity pool, a new addition to their growing home, glimmers beautifully before him, and he considers diving in, tanned body coursing through the clean water like a fish. The thought is a nice one, and Will sinks further into the lounge, curled hair a halo around his head, pillow feeling like his own personal cloud.

Will hears Hannibal before he sees the man, something that is not often a feat he can claim to be capable of. The younger man can only assume it is because his husband wishes him to know precisely when he will arrive at the side of the chair, arms crossed over his broad chest. Will looks up at him briefly, appraising the dark purple silk robe the older man is wearing, cinched tight at the waist, thick chest hair peeking out of the partially opened collar of the garment. He can feel dark eyes trailing down his body, gaze dancing along the expanse of his bared flesh.

“I would be jealous of the sky were it capable of seeing you,” Hannibal murmurs softly.

“And the flowers and the water, I imagine,” Will teases.

“One could argue that plants can see,” the older man comments as he looms closer, hair falling into his eyes where it had escaped from the elastic that bound the silver-blond mass, ever lengthening and still appearing impossibly soft under the sparkling sunlight.

“I’m trying to picture the garden full of eyes now,” Will closes his eyes again and shifts over slightly on the lounge chair. “It’s rather disconcerting.”

Hannibal glances at his vegetable garden, at the various green vines wrapping around the fencing that encloses the sizeable yard.

The vines and leaves are full of a vibrant verdancy that is ever a marvel to revel in, but at Will’s indirect prompting he imagines gleaming eyes blinking menacingly out from the plants, wicked and cat-slitted pupils intent. Hannibal perches on the chair next to Will and brushes the thought aside. He’s grinning when he reaches forward to spread his hand palm down on his husband’s chest, thumb stroking over the place that his heart hides behind, a wall of flesh and bone and other intricacies he can clearly picture in his mind’s eye. _And suddenly he’s imagining a garden of a different sort -glistening ivory bones taking the shape of the fence and plump still-beating hearts hanging from thin veins like bright red tomatoes ready for harvesting_

“Were there creatures within our garden, then I would smite them each for laying eyes upon what is mine,” Hannibal says in a way that is both soothing and brutally honest.

“I suspect any potential neighbors would be doomed at this point in time,” Will smirks up at his husband, eyes opening and glittering with mirth.

“You are quite correct.”

Hannibal gentles the almost curt response by stroking his hand from Will’s chest to his belly, ghosting his fingers across the younger man’s navel in an almost tickling gesture. Will locks his gaze on his husband’s brown eyes and softens his smirk into a smile full of affection. He cups the side of the man’s face and slowly drags him closer for a lingering but chaste kiss.

“Lucky me,” Will whispers into Hannibal’s mouth, and it is no jest.


End file.
